


we could be beautiful

by stardots



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, Mild Angst, Smut, ambiguous/open relationships, band au, tbh im not sure if its angsty, the band is soft and cute w/ each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:36:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardots/pseuds/stardots
Summary: They're pretty much strangers, each other's names the only thing they know. Yet, Taeyong is haunted by hair dye and nail art, his lungs filled with cigarette smoke as he drowns.





	we could be beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> i just love dotae so much
> 
> tbh this is all written while listening to sex by the 1975 (and some kings of leon and the naked and famous), title taken from roses by the chainsmokers bc musical diversity am i rite ??

The air was chilly, but not so cold it was uncomfortable, when Taeyong left the club to escape the loud thuds of bass and sweaty bodies. Their gig had ended a good two hours ago, and Johnny was off throwing up in the bathroom (or snorting lines, it was either or), and Jaehyun and Yuta had been grinding on each other on the dancefloor. It was their way to lure in someone for a threesome, and worked two out of five nights on average.

Taeyong leaned against the wall made out of brick, scratchy and rough, closing his eyes to regain a thin line of thoughts after his mind had left him inside. There had been someone, tall, slender, unbelievably beautiful, simply sitting by the bar and laughing with someone he just met or maybe some friends. Taeyong had seen him from stage, almost playing a chord wrong as his attention was caught by peach colored hair. They had stared at each other, caught each other in doing so, and Taeyong really wanted to go home.

When he opened his eyes again, thinking about the upcoming gig next week, his thoughts left him again. The stranger stood there, a cigarette between his lips, leaning on the opposite wall. He had noticed Taeyong’s presence, or at least, should have.

“Can you… not.” Taeyong waved his hand in the air, gesturing for words he didn’t speak. That earned him a stare with a raised eyebrow before the guy chuckled, pocketing his lighter. “Thanks.”

“You’re not what people paint you as.” He commented, removing the cigarette from his lips, fingers twitching slightly. He was probably kind of addicted, and Taeyong was kind of addicted to those hands. They were pretty; slim digits, manicured nails with pastel polish. Taeyong looked down at his own black painted ones, frowning. “Everyone says you go around drinking and smoking like you don’t have liver or lungs like some real rock and roll star, but here you are. Sober and cute, stopping me from lightning my damn cigarette.”

“I pick up beer cans and liquor bottles after parties and recycle them.” The bassist wasn’t sure why he shared exactly  _ that _ , but it earned him a smile, so he was content with his whimsical mind for once.

“See, very cute.” Taeyong let out an airy laugh, so fucking flustered, because this guy was shamelessly complimenting him. He was flattered, he rarely got called cute, and his family and Jaehyun didn’t count. 

“Guess you know me, huh.”

“Yes, Taeyong, I do.” The stranger was fiddling with his lighter again, clicking on it so gas leaked out, the noise of pressure barely audible over the droned out bass from the club. “And you know me, too.” 

“Do I really?” Taeyong played along, a little unsure if the male meant it. Taeyong didn’t have the best memory when it came to people, preferring to live in the present compared to the past. But then again, they had been staring at each other for a majority of the night, and maybe that’s what he meant. The stranger knew Taeyong’s name though, but he had introduced himself on stage, so that could be why.

“Well, at least I’ll make sure you won’t forget me.” He leaned closer, and Taeyong realized he was sober as well, no bitter tinge shadowing his breath.

“How?”

“Rather than telling, I prefer showing.” Eyes flickered from pink hair to pink lips, blood pumped through veins, clothes suddenly feeling heavy. “If you’d let me.”

-

“How to never be forgotten…” Taeyong sighed wistfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “Bring someone to a shithole of a Subway at 4 am, buy them a meal deal, and steal their potato chips.”

“You seem like someone people would wine and dine, so if I brought you here, you’d remember me for the shittiest first date in history.” The stranger, who Taeyong learned went by Doyoung, snickered as he ate his stolen loot. 

“Date?” The grip on his food tightened, eyes wide as they met Doyoung’s. “We just met, and… just…  _ food. _ ”

“Well, you don’t seem like someone who fucks on the first date nor first meeting, so I had to start somewhere.” Doyoung hummed, leaning over to wipe absolutely nothing from Taeyong’s chin. It was an excuse to touch, and Taeyong knew it, but he still felt his heartbeat picking up its pace. “And I’ve kind of had an eye on you for a while, just maybe.”

“Just maybe?” Taeyong smiled, a playful look in his eyes. He might be mostly shy, but he could flirt if he felt like it, and Doyoung was definitely someone worth his time. At least so far. “That’s disappointing.”

“Oh really, now.” Doyoung purred, hand still caressing Taeyong’s face. “What would be disappointing, is if you don’t have chapstick, because my lips are kind of dry and kind of burning.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Doyoung was serious, biting his lower lip to show how dry it was, and Taeyong let out an amused snort. “I do, in fact, have chapstick.”

When they left the Subway to part ways when the clock was closing in on morning, Doyoung pecked him on the cheek. Taeyong was a little miffed, because he had expected more, but he used his chapstick and blushed all the way home at the thought of an indirect kiss.

-

“Can you look at this?” He shoved the lyrics into Jaehyun’s face, not really giving him an option. The vocalist scanned the paper, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. He let out a few hums, mumbling out some out the words and sentences as he went. 

“You wrote a song about-” Jaehyun let out a mix between a snort and a choke, before continuing. “- _ your one night stand _ .”

“It’s not about- we  _ didn’t _ \- Just, will you sing it or no?” Taeyong huffed, pinching Jaehyun’s arm. “I think you might be able to experiment some with your vocals, like you wanted to.”

“You have a guide already?” The younger asked, eyes gleaming excitedly. It reminded Taeyong of the look he had on his face in high school when he got his first keyboard, except his cheeks weren’t as chubby as back then. Plus, he had a nose piercing now.

“No, you're free to do whatever you want.” Jaehyun gasped, looking down at the lyrics again.

“Melody..?”

“We can head over to the hub and record a backing track, Johnny already did the drums, and me and Yuta have been playing around with some chords. I think I know what I want to use.” Taeyong explained, tugging at his cartilage piercing absentmindedly. “The planned synth is easy, so I really want this to be focused on your voice.”

“It’s not even my birthday, but this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten!” Jaehyun pulled him into a hug, Taeyong wheezing about needing air. “Even though it’s actually for that dude you won't tell us about.”

“You’re a shit head, you know that?”

“After the amount of times you’ve told me that for the past ten years… Nope.” The younger gleefully sang, letting Taeyong go. “But for real, I need the deets on that guy.”

“There are no “deets”, and who said it’s about him?” Crossing his arms, Taeyong stood up, wandering over to his backpack to pick it up.

“You’re super obvious, and I saw you two leave when I went out to take a drag with Yuta. You always find new muses awfully fast.” Jaeyun wiggled his eyebrows, Taeyong avoiding his gaze completely. “Just... be careful, okay?”

“Why?” The bassist was puzzled, considering how quick his best friend went from playful to serious. Jaehyun was seldom serious, and if he was, it was about music or food.

“You know why.” Jaehyun muttered while he looked down, kicking his foot absentmindedly. “It’s you, and… last time…”

“Jae, I won’t let it happen again. And besides, he’s in jail, and I know I can tell you guys if anything goes wrong.” Taeyong sighed, Jaehyun biting his lips, but accepting the statement. His worried look turned playful again, and Taeyong let out another sigh.

“Standing close to the stage you can find groupies, and sometimes, the predators manage to sneak backstage. Groupies are pack animals, but more times than not, they attack in solitary-”

“Doyoung isn’t a  _ groupie _ !”

“Oh, he has a name! Hey, don’t leave me- slamming a door in someone’s face isn’t nice!”

-

Doyoung, without a single trace of doubt, was Taeyong’s demise.

He was in the crowd again the next week, his hair a flaring orange, grinning and cheering for each song. He even sang along to a few lines, and Taeyong wanted to drone out all sounds and focus on his voice, to hear what it sounded like. When he talked, it was light like cotton, and what if it was the same when he sang?

Jaehyun, always one with horribly keen eyes, caught the way Taeyong kept his gaze locked to the same spot when he didn’t look down at his bass. While Yuta was changing guitars once they finished covering Sex On Fire, the younger nudged Taeyong with a smile that screamed mirth and all Taeyong could think was  _ shit  _ before Jaehyun raised the mic to his mouth.

“Tonight, we’re playing a new self-made song, dedicated to our bassist’s lover boy!” The vocalist yelled, earning loud cheers and coos, making Taeyong want to break a stage light and jump into the flames. He didn’t dare look at Doyoung once Johnny started the drum intro, Jaehyun lightly pressing on the synth while starting to sing. Words of first meetings, odd imageries and dingy diner lights left Jaehyun’s mouth, and he had been right about Taeyong being too obvious. 

Taeyong didn’t mess up, Yuta played a chord a little too fast, Johnny did an impromptu improvisation that caught Jaehyun off guard, but they finished the song nicely with a dragged out note from Jaehyun’s vocal chords. Clean up went by way too quick for Taeyong’s liking, and soon they were all out on the floor, mingling with other club goers. 

Taeyong avoided looking up, scared to meet sharp eyes and sunset hair, because now his interest was laid out in the open for the world to see. It might’ve been considered silly, but Taeyong kind of wanted to see if Doyoung would chase him, fight for him, genuinely be interested, and now it would end up being the other way around. Taeyong hoped he wasn’t right about it, especially not when someone held a drink in front of his face, fingers adorned in nail art tapping against the glass.

“It’s virgin, so it’s safe for you, love.” Doyoung smiled, eyebrows raised just slightly so his face held an amused (and maybe a little smitten) expression. “Just because it’s a club, doesn’t mean they have nothing to keep you hydrated.”

“How can I know you didn’t spike it?” Taeyong muttered, glad the darkness of the room hid his flushed cheeks. Doyoung just hummed, sliding an arm around Taeyong’s waist, pulling their bodies close when someone ran past. “I do, in fact, drink alcohol sometimes.”

“I’d love to see those sometimes.” Taeyong didn’t know if Doyoung was someone who got in on fake ID, or if he was doing a masters or a bachelor or was a dropout, but he didn’t care as long as Doyoung kept him in his arms like that. If he looked down, he could again see sharp flowers on blanch polish on the fingers against his waist, matching the color scheme of the other’s hair. “Do you have chapstick?”

“Yeah.” This time, Taeyong had a lip balm in a box, and since he didn’t know if Doyoung was the type to not wash his hands often he pressed his own finger into it. He applied some carefully onto Doyoung’s lips, which were indeed  _ very  _ chapped.

Besides standing in Doyoung’s embrace for a good hour, that was the most intimate they got, and Taeyong was growing impatient. Especially since Doyoung hadn’t given him his number, nor asked for Taeyong’s. Taeyong wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to take up the chase, and Doyoung kept giving him warm smiles and threaded his fingers through his pink locks, and he really wanted to smack himself for not being like Yuta and just smash his lips together with anyone who even looked his way.

-

Doyoung didn’t appear the next three weeks, and not the two following ones after when the band had gotten a regular spot in a bigger venue. It was yet another club, but it was more high end, raising their paychecks significantly.

The funds they needed to record their first album was almost at its goal, which left the four of them buzzed and working on more songs. That lead to long nights, and Taeyong mended the ache in his heart by keeping busy.

Johnny and Jaehyun had fucked once while Yuta watched, leading to hyper sexual lyrics because the two of them just worked like that, and Yuta agreed to all the drafts. Taeyong tried to save the art of songwriting by replacing all the different lines about fucking with a little more ambiguous words. A week later and Jaehyun had found a new muse in the form of a transfer student from China, and the songs went from sexual to sugar sweet, despite Taeyong walking in on them fucking in the hub.

They had just finished a long night of brainstorming, playing around to finish one of the many song drafts, but Taeyong still wasn’t content with the outcome. He had barely slept a wink, plagued by teeth biting onto lips and the color orange, sparkly nails and shining eyes. He should probably ask Yuta or Johnny to help him relieve stress (never Jaehyun, they kissed each other in high school and found out they were 100% gay but also that their relationship was 100% platonic), but it would be embarrassing if he moaned out Doyoung’s name.

When the clock struck 11, he trudged into a coffee shop not far from his flat. He swore not to turn to caffeine that much, but he was having a hard week and needed a little waking up. A comforting macchiato or flavored latte, with lots of sugar, was on the menu.

What wasn’t on the menu, was a clear laugh and fading hair with a hint of roots growing. Taeyong casually went up to the counter, ignoring the sting in his chest when he saw Doyoung conversing with someone at a table not far from where he stood.

Doyoung was beautiful in the light of day, laptop in front of him and another guy sitting across from him on the table. They were both grinning so wide, and Taeyong hadn’t seen that kind of smile on Doyoung those times they had met. He pulled his hood up to cover his face, and hopefully Doyoung wouldn’t see him.

He was happy with that other guy, after all.

“A vanilla latte for Taeyong!” It was just his luck that the barista had a loud voice, despite him being the only one waiting for a drink. He cursed as he went over to grab it, ready to just bolt out of the door. What stopped him, was another call of his name, a surprised tone to it. Taeyong felt his throat clog up, turning slowly towards the sound.

He met Doyoung’s gaze, who gave him a little wave. The other guy was looking at him, too, and he was fucking gorgeous, so much more beautiful than Taeyong could ever wish he was. Their hands were intertwined on the table, Doyoung’s nails a pale blue with white ribbons painted onto them. It wasn’t shocking, Doyoung could have anyone he’d want, of course he saw Taeyong wasn’t the one.

He forced a pull to his lips, and a little wave in return, before leaving without a word.

-

“I’m gonna murder that asshole.” Jaehyun threw a crumpled piece of paper across the room, a song no one really liked, and luckily not anything heavier. “He literally treated you like a prince and then it was just a big joke?!”

“It’s okay, we didn’t really do anything besides flirting with each other, in a  _ club _ .” Taeyong sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. Johnny was giving him a head massage, something he was fucking good at, surprisingly soft finger pads rubbing against Taeyong’s scalp. Taeyong had revealed why his songs were coming out mediocre (they were still good, he just didn’t think so), and none of the guys had taken it well. Especially not Yuta, who lost fifty bucks to Johnny because they had a bet about when Doyoung and Taeyong would end up together.

“Don’t say that, you’re worth more than just someone to play with on the side.” Yuta huffed, head on Taeyong's lap, hands wrapped around the older’s waist. “You’re not me, nor Jaehyun-”

“Hey!”

“-who just likes to fool around. You want something good and serious, and that’s what you deserve.”

“I’m offended, have I not been going steady with Sicheng?” Jaehyun pouted, sitting on Yuta’s stomach.

“You and Yuta both have your rounds with him, and then together, it doesn’t count.” Johnny snickered, Taeyong letting out a soft laugh because he just loved his bandmates and best friends more than anything. “If anything, it’s you and Yuta who’s going steady.”

“Surprised you guys aren’t married already.” Taeyong contributed, and both Jaehyun’s and Yuta’s cheeks flared up. 

“Anyways,” Yuta coughed, clearing his throat dramatically, Jaehyun pinching his thigh in spite that wasn’t deserved. “Fuck you, Jung.”

“It’s mutual, Nakamoto.”

“There’s this guy I know, and he’s really nice.” Johnny spoke up over the squabble, pressing a kiss on top of Taeyong’s head. “Only if you’re interested, of course.”

“I think…” Taeyong mulled it over, then the four of them shared looks, unspoken words hanging around them that they all understood. Suddenly, they were all piled together on the floor, Johnny the mattress, Taeyong, Yuta and Jaehyun working as blankets and stuffed animals. There were some kicking and groaning, before they settled in a mix between comfortable and uncomfortable. “Maybe another time, but thank you.”

“Anytime.” Johnny grinned, wheezing slightly because Yuta’s butt was pressed snug against his sternum. “I did fix us a recording studio, though.”

“Huh?” They shifted around again, Johnny sitting up so the three could crowd around him like puppies. He patted their heads for effect, because they kind of were his little gang of puppies.

“So you all know about my side job,”

“I  _ knew  _ you were a gigolo!” Johnny smacked Jaehyun’s head, because he wasn’t.

“I’m tutoring this guy at the local art university in English, and he’s studying dance and music composition, so he has access to the campus recording studio.” The drummer explained, lips stretched in an excited smile. “There’s an open spot in about two weeks that we can fill for around ten nights, which should be enough for us to finish if we practice enough, because we can do the tweaking here in the hub. If I do our tutoring sessions for free, he’ll let us use it for free!”

“Oh my God!” Jaehyun squealed, jumping into Johnny’s embrace, soon joined by the two others. “It’s happening, it’s really happening!”

“We’ve been in this crappy band for three years, and  _ finally. _ ” Yuta wiped away fake tears, earning him another pinch, but from Taeyong this time. “Okay okay, not crappy, the best band there is!”

“You’re right.” Johnny laughed, loud and hearty, all of them agreeing to stay a little longer to finish some songs in their happiness.

-

Taeyong couldn’t focus.

The guy Johnny had been tutoring, was the gorgeous male Doyoung had been enjoying warm coffee with. There was no way in hell he could tell the others, because the guy, Ten, was so damn nice and funny, matching the band’s dynamic well. Sicheng was also there as support, because he was studying dance with Ten and was Jaehyun’s sort of boyfriend, and Taeyong didn’t want to ruin the amazing atmosphere with his dumb feelings.

It didn’t help that Ten was kind towards him, too, chattering how he had been to one of the shows and really appreciated Taeyong’s skill, but not about how they kind of met in a coffee shop. He was flattered, and Ten kept showering him in compliments, but his heart didn’t burst the same way like when Doyoung did it. What compliments did Ten give Doyoung, and Doyoung Ten? What sweet nothings were whispered into skin at night? Did Ten do Doyoung’s nails for him, since he was really good at drawing based on the doodles on his notes?

Taeyong tried not to think or feel when he was in the recording booth, just doing his job. He and Yuta were the first ones up for the song, the studio a little too small to fit the entire band in it, considering Johnny’s drumset took up most of it. Sicheng and Jaehyun were cuddling in one of the big chairs, Johnny conversing with Ten as they planned out the recording. Ten gave Yuta and Taeyong a thumbs up after a few minutes, and then they started playing. 

They redid it five times, as there was a few mess ups here and there, but the last round sounded perfect. They all cheered, raising water bottles and red bull cans in celebration, Sicheng kissing Yuta on the cheek despite half-hearted protests from Jaehyun. Johnny went in to set up the rest of his instrument so he could do his part, and Ten pulled Taeyong into a hug. Taeyong didn’t think of Doyoung even if he was in Ten’s arms, buzzed on the feeling of doing his first proper recording for an actual CD.

He did think of Doyoung though, when he stepped out of the building for some fresh air, because he was greeted with freshly dyed blue and violet hair tangled together in a dance. The digits holding a cigarette had french manicure, except the nail on the ring finger that was dipped in silver. Doyoung turned his head, eyes widening, and he hurriedly killed the fire against the wall and threw the stub away.

“Hey.” Taeyong greeted, surprised, confused, hurting.

“Hey.” Doyoung greeted back, a sheepish smile gracing his perfect face. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah.”  _ And who’s fault is that? _ Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to utter words that would take away Doyoung’s grin from him. “You waiting for the studio?”

“No, I’m waiting for Ten.” Of fucking course. Taeyong let his lips twist into an askew smile, because he didn’t want to ruin something as sweet as affection, possibly love. Doyoung didn’t deserve his bitterness, especially since Doyoung and Taeyong never had belonged in the same sentence. They were pretty much strangers who simply knew each other's names. And had a first date, at a Subway, and Taeyong wanted back to that unsanitary place and have Doyoung’s hand on his cheek. “Didn’t know it was you guys he was working with, that’s cool.”

“I guess, yeah.” They were silent after that, not having anything to say, yet Taeyong wanted to say so much. It wasn’t appropriate, when he knew Ten was just inside, laughing and smiling and had a heart that could hurt like Taeyong’s. He shook his head, wondering how he could get attached so fast, fall so hard. “Want to come in?”

“I’m fine.” Doyoung lifted his pack of cigarettes, Lucky Strike with four clicks, hiding bitter taste behind various forms of menthol. Taeyong nodded, he had after all interrupted the other when he walked out. His heart tugged again, the fact that Doyoung respecting that Taeyong doesn’t like smoke making it whine. “Do you have chapstick, by the way?”

“No, sorry.” He actually did, but he just walked back inside, not wanting Doyoung to hold yet another piece of him.

-

Again, Taeyong couldn’t focus.

The sixth night of recording, they had a longer time slot that the previous ones, so they were going to try and finish two songs. They were working effectively, everyone in high spirits, especially since Sicheng had went on a mission to get them all pizza. Taeyong was in the zone, never messing up once, and even coming up with amazing add-ons on the spot. 

But then, Doyoung came in.

He was there for Ten again, the Thai pulling Doyoung into his lap when he entered. Doyoung protested, but stayed put the entire recording. Jaehyun gave a few sour stares towards the two, and a few comforting ones to Taeyong, but the band acted civilized. Sicheng apparently knew Doyoung, too, clinging onto him in a way that made Jaehyun jealous, so he didn’t have to feel bad about giving dirty looks anymore. 

Taeyong fell out of his mind space, playing the wrong chords and the wrong tempo, hands shaking as he felt Doyoung’s gaze on him inside the recording booth. It suddenly felt stuffy, too hot and humid, sweat forming at his hairline. Doyoung and Ten were holding hands again, the limbs lying offensively in Doyoung’s lap, Ten’s cheek pressed against the taller boy’s shoulder. They were arguing over something, they were constantly teasing each other and riling each other up, but there was affection behind the harsh words. They knew each other well, and Taeyong barely knew anything about Doyoung at all.

Doyoung had tried to talk to him, start light conversation, but Taeyong kept his replies cut short. What was the point, if it would just give Taeyong unnecessary hope if he was given so much attention from the other? He didn’t want to be a rebound, if things suddenly got sour. He wanted Doyoung to put him first, and that was so fucking selfish.

He excused himself, saying he just needed some air, Johnny following him as he bolted out the door. The good thing about Johnny, was that you never needed to speak for him to understand you, so Taeyong let him fall into the comforting arms. He didn’t cry, because yes, he was attached to Doyoung, hopelessly crushing, but it wasn’t love. Doyoung had been kinder than anyone who had tried to court Taeyong, softer on the edges, a cooling lotion on rashed skin. 

Maybe that’s why he had gotten so far in, because his twisted mind found comfort in gentle, soft hands. Doyoung was skinny, Taeyong having more muscle, so he hoped Doyoung couldn’t throw him against a wall. Doyoung whispered sweet words and praises after holding him, not after leaving bruises, and that gave Doyoung the power to bruise Taeyong’s heart.

“It’ll be alright.” Johnny whispered, fingers carding through Taeyong’s hair. His ex had hated pink, ruined all of Taeyong’s clothes with even a speck of it, so he dyed his hair the same color.

“Why do I like him so much?” Johnny hummed, kissing Taeyong’s face even if there were no tears there. He laced their fingers together, pressing their hands against Taeyong’s chest.

“Because he’s kind, and that’s what you deserve.” Johnny smiled, and Taeyong found himself returning it. “Even if it takes time, someone like him will come around and show you the same warmth. Wasn’t it after all just in a club? What about trying in a book store next time?”

“You’re right.” Taeyong rested his forehead against Johnny’s chest, thinking that maybe, this was all temporary. His mind would eventually get clear, and he’d realize he was just holding something against Doyoung that he didn’t deserve. After all, Doyoung couldn’t possibly know about Taeyong’s sickening cravings for affection before he approached Taeyong.

“Am I interrupting something?” Taeyong froze, but after a few seconds he turned his head, Doyoung’s gaze scrutinizing him and Johnny with an unreadable expression. Johnny let go of Taeyong’s hand, throwing his arm over his shoulder and pulling him to his side.

“Just some pep talk, there’s a lot of stress when there’s an album in the making.” Johnny conversed easily, and Taeyong felt relief wash over him when he didn’t feel bad about being intimate with someone else. He didn’t think about it as him being petty, even though he might be. “He’s the leader of the band, so there’s a lot on his shoulders, heart and mind.”

“Ah.” Doyoung stuffed one of his hands into his pocket, the outline of a phone showing through the skinny jean material. “Jaehyun still has some things he need to redo, and I offered to take Taeyong home since he didn’t seem to be feeling well.”

Johnny and Taeyong shared a look, Johnny’s eyes doubting, giving Taeyong’s back a comforting rub.

“Yeah, okay.” He agreed, Doyoung shooting him a smile. Johnny raised an eyebrow, but in the end he let go of Taeyong. He waved at them both before walking back into the studio, muttering something about young people making his bones creak. “I need to get my stuff, though.”

“Already have it.” Doyoung held Taeyong’s bag up, handing it to him along with a water bottle. “Yuta will bring your bass back to the hub, or whatever the place was called, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Thank you.”

-

Doyoung didn’t drive Taeyong home first. Instead, he drove to an empty lot where some of the city skyline was in view. Taeyong refused to stay in the car, even though Doyoung told him he was gonna smoke, sitting down on the hood instead. Doyoung walked a few steps away, back turned to Taeyong, lighting up his relief. Grey clouds rose in the dim light, and Taeyong took his time admiring broad shoulders under simple white cotton.

After a few minutes, Doyoung threw the stub to the ground and stepped on it. He stood still for a moment, as if walking back to the car would be hard work. Taeyong laughed at the thought, because Doyoung did seem like the type to not bother getting out of bed to pee. When Doyoung finally made his way back, he looked concentrated, staring at Taeyong.

"Who was that song about?" Doyoung asked as he kicked some gravel, skimpy t-shirt not doing much to fight off the night breeze. Then again, it wasn't too cold, or maybe the embarrassed blush on Taeyong's cheeks warmed up his entire body. “When Jaehyun was recording, he said you were the one who wrote it.” 

"You." Honesty lasted longer than lies, and he was proved right with the quirk of an eyebrow before the quirk of lips. "I don't know, songs just happen, you just happened."

"Cute." Doyoung giggled, light and airy, hopping onto the hood of the car next to Taeyong. "I don't have a boyfriend, though."

"Ten?" Caught of guard, and somehow relieved, he muttered out the guessed lover. He guessed (he kept guessing and not bothering to see if he's right, he noticed) they were just that. 

" _ No! _ " Doyoung laughed now, full on, loud laughter. He threw his head back, exposing the column of his neck, and Taeyong wondered how many marks he could fit on the skin. "He's like this... twin brother I never had, or something."

"Twin, actually." 

"Yeah, no way he's the older one, but he can't be the younger one either." Doyoung swung his legs, and lets out a little exclamation when the back of his shin hit a little too hard against the grill. "He has a younger sister, but he likes being babied, it’s this odd complex he has."

"But, you guys aren’t, like… a thing.”

"No, silly." Doyoung leaned his head on top of Taeyong’s, a little too tall to lean on his shoulder, but Taeyong didn’t mind, Doyoung’s chest rumbling with giggles again. It felt right to lace their fingers together, so Taeyong did. "God, I was thinking I had done or said something horrible and messed up completely to make you avoid me, and then you and Johnny, but you just… you have warm hands."

"You have cold hands."

"It's cold out." 

Doyoung wrapped an arm around Taeyong, pulling him close, and Taeyong sighed against the other's chest. In the spur of the moment, he started kissing the shirt that separated his lips from skin, Doyoung taking in a shivering breath. Taeyong wondered why he had hesitated, and let himself be confused, when Doyoung was so easy to be around, and so easy to just fall into.

"I think we both need a drink.” Doyoung murmured, his grip around Taeyong’s waist tightening. 

"I’m a mess.” Taeyong replied through pecks, stopping to look up at Doyoung. “A really messy drunk.”

“And I want to see all of you.” The older flushed, possibly from head to toe, a scarlet that went all too well with pastel pink hair. They went to a nearby club because Taeyong also realized he couldn't deny Doyoung in any way, especially when he looked at Taeyong like he was the only thing he knew. Doyoung left his car in a “safe” and free parking zone, hoping it would still be okay the following day.

A single drink turned into quite a few more, and soon they were doing literally anything. They danced in the middle of the crowd, they held hands while talking in the bathroom amongst the smell of weed, sex and puke, they took shots with strangers because hey, free drinks.

One too many sips of alcohol had Taeyong’s world spinning. He laughed and snorted at everything, spilt one or two drinks over the bar counter and some random girl (she was cool with it, it was an excuse to remove her shirt in front of the person she was trying to get with), and Doyoung was highly amused by the loud and clingy Taeyong.

“You’re pretty.” The bassist cooed, hands playing with Doyoung’s. They both had black nail polish on, something Taeyong hadn’t noticed, and it made his chest swell with glee.

“And you’re beautiful.” Their faces were merely any centimeters apart, breaths mingling together. They were leaning against a wall, away from the crowd, in their own little world of intoxication and warmth. If Doyoung just tipped his chin, or Taeyong moved his leg, they would be kissing, and Taeyong wanted it so bad. He wanted everything Doyoung could offer, and he knew Doyoung wanted Taeyong, too. 

“Do you have chapstick?” Doyoung asked, and Taeyong got fucking pissed. They were so close, close enough to just have strawberry daiquiri and raspberry vodka lips pressed together, mixing into their own ecstasy alcohol couldn’t provide. But Doyoung wanted the damn chapstick, always,  _ always _ . And fuck, Taeyong was gonna give him the fucking chapstick.

“I do.” Taeyong took it out, removing the cap and twisting it up. He smeared some over his own lips, smacking them, and then he put away the lip balm. Doyoung lifted an eyebrow, or maybe two, but Taeyong wasn’t focused enough to count. He just raised his feet to stand on his toes, hands gripping Doyoung’s t-shirt, and then smashed their lips together.

Doyoung let out a groan, his arms steadying Taeyong who was about to tip them over. It did taste like too sweet alcohol, and faint cigarette smoke from Doyoung’s addiction, and Taeyong was scared he’d get addicted, too. Doyoung’s hands found purchase on Taeyong’s ass, pulling him closer, their bodies pressed together completely as they kept sharing sloppy kisses. Neither of them were too fond of sticking tongues down each other’s throats, preferring to meet with tender licks, swipes in between lips and drunk fireworks blazing in their minds.

“I have a fucking annoying roommate.” Doyoung stated when they broke apart, Taeyong pressing another kiss to cherry colored lips before giving his reply.

“I live alone.”

“Lead the way.”

-

“Are you sober yet?” Doyoung giggled, nursing his glass of water while sitting on Taeyong’s couch. They were facing each other, legs tangled together, both drinking water and trying to clear their heads. They had just been talking for an hour, or maybe two, getting to know each other. Taeyong lost himself in the timbre of Doyoung’s voice, a sweet melody, a song he would play on repeat.

“I don’t know.”

“Then you are.” Doyoung was still giggling, his foot teasingly rubbing against Taeyong’s abdomen, lips stretched into a wide grin. “Only drunk people say they’re sober, and since you don’t know, you must be.”

“That logic is fucking dumb.” Taeyong couldn’t help but laugh himself, a little forced, because he wanted Doyoung to just have his way with him already.

“I said I’d make sure you wouldn’t forget me.” Doyoung’s tone dropped significantly, and Taeyong’s breath hitched. Doyoung sat up, carefully placing their glasses on the table, before leaning over Taeyong. “I always keep my word.”

“Then, instead of telling me,” Taeyong stared into Doyoung’s eyes, undeniable traces of lust swimming in them, and he felt his skin starting to burn. “Show me.”

That was all the coaxing Doyoung needed, letting their lips meet again. It felt like the last time had been forever ago, even if it hadn’t been that long, the both of them releasing pent up moans of frustration as they had a taste of each other. They were impatient, Doyoung’s t-shirt removed quickly, Taeyong’s along with it. Before they got too ahead of themselves, they realized the couch was a little too small, so with as little grace as possible they managed to stumble to the bedroom.

Doyoung was wearing a belt, and Taeyong had problems taking it off. It was possibly because he was still kind of tipsy, but Doyoung got rid of it without any problems, which made him pout. Doyoung kissed it away, removing his way too tight jeans with a little struggle, Taeyong not even bothering trying to wiggle himself out of his own. Doyoung could take them off, and he did, cursing as they just wouldn’t let go of Taeyong’s ankles.

After all offending materials were gone, Doyoung climbed on top of Taeyong again, pressing their crotches together. Doyoung leaned his head down, whispering promises into Taeyong’s ear, Taeyong taking his time leaving marks on Doyoung’s neck like he had wanted to do so fucking bad. Taeyong mildly remembered he had promised to make breakfast for Yuta the following morning, but Yuta could suffer in hunger, because he wanted to spend all night like this with Doyoung.

Once the lube was retrieved from a random drawer somewhere in the room, Doyoung placed a pillow under Taeyong’s ass, sitting down at the end of the bed. Teasingly, always teasingly, Doyoung coated his fingers in the liquid, warming it up slowly. Taeyong was mewling and whining, kicking his foot against Doyoung’s thigh half-heartedly. Doyoung chuckled, looking like a misplaced God with his hair colored like the night sky, skin glowing in the dim lights from outside and Taeyong’s lava lamp.

“If you ask nicely, you might get what you want.” Taeyong huffed, actually kicking Doyoung this time around, Doyoung catching his foot and holding him still.

“You ask me for chapstick all the damn time, so you better just get on with it, you owe me as much.” Doyoung raised an eyebrow, but hummed nonetheless.

“I was asking you to kiss me with your fucking soft lips, and you finally took the fucking hint.” Doyoung took a hold of Taeyong’s cock, his fingers gliding easy over the skin. Taeyong let out a moan, deep but light, embarrassed because he had in fact  _ not  _ taken the hint. “Do you know how perfect you are? You’re flawless, good, so much better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“ _ Doyoung _ .” Taeyong panted, Doyoung twisting his hand and altering his grip, bringing sweet pleasure to Taeyong’s body.

“God, I’ve been so taken by your beauty ever since I first went to one of your gigs, and you’re just so soft and hot at the same time.” Doyoung kept praising, complimenting, and Taeyong couldn’t handle the words mixed with the hold on his cock. “I want to keep you all for myself, you, this,  _ you  _ like _ this _ , all for me and my eyes.”

“Please, I-” Doyoung let go of his dick, hand going down, fingers smearing lubrication over his hole. A finger slid in easily, working in a steady pace, starting of the stretch. Taeyong could only moan.

“Will you be like this, only for me?” Doyoung asked after a while, letting the second digit join the first. He worked them together, scissoring, preparing Taeyong. “Will you be good for me?”

“Yes, fuck!” Taeyong yelped, hating himself for loving the pain, almost matching the pleasure in how amazing it made him feel. It was what had kept him around his ex for so long, this sick pleasure he got from roughness, but then it was taken out of the bedroom and it was ruined. Doyoung seemed to pick up on it, already slipping a third finger in, and at the same time patching up the broken parts of Taeyong and putting him back together. Doyoung was still gentle, still careful, and Taeyong almost cried when he realized this was so much better than what he had experienced before.

“Tell me when it’s too much.” Taeyong didn’t understand how anything could be too much, but then Doyoung let his pinky fill Taeyong too, and it burned. It burned so good, and Taeyong could faintly register Doyoung groaning, but he wasn’t sure if the noise came from him or Doyoung.

“Fuck me, fuck me,  _ please _ .” Doyoung was scrambling around, probably in search of a condom, and Taeyong needed to be filled again after Doyoung removed his fingers. He gripped Doyoung’s wrist, stopping him, sitting up slightly. “I’m clean, I need you.”

“Shit, okay.” Doyoung picked up the lube again, preparing himself to enter Taeyong, who already had his legs wrapped around Doyoung’s waist. It went easy, Doyougn wasn’t particularly thick, but he had length, and they both moaned as Doyoung’s hips met the back of Taeyong’s thighs.

The starting pace was shaky, Doyoung trying to find a fitting rhythm, Taeyong turning limp and just letting himself be fucked into. The build up started, Doyoung moving them so Taeyong was up against the wall, hands holding onto Taeyong’s hips. He thrusted deeper, faster, Taeyong’s nails raking down Doyoung’s back as he took all that was given to him.

“God, harder,” Taeyong managed to get out between whines, and Doyoung understood both meanings behind the plea. His fingers pressed into Taeyong’s hips, would definitely leave bruises in forms of bright stars spread over the night sky. He gave up speed for harder movements of his hips, always gliding against Taeyong’s prostate. Due to the angle, Doyoung’s pelvis pressed against Taeyong’s perineum, leaving the older almost unable to breathe at the double stimulation. 

“You’re so amazing, baby, so fucking good.” Doyoung murmured into Taeyong’s ear, Taeyong keening at the praise. They kissed, sloppy, licking into each other’s mouth in an attempt to stay connected besides the harsh movements of their bodies. Taeyong knew he was close, and could possibly come untouched if Doyoung kept doing what he currently was. Doyoung did, and soon Taeyong let out a drawn out moan, almost a scream, Doyoung’s name leaving his lips among the other sounds as he came.

He didn’t register how he was laid down on the bed again, but Doyoung was still rutting into him, chasing his own climax. Taeyong came to it again when a hand took a hold of his cock, sore and still a little hard, uneven strokes not matching the pace Doyoung had set. It hurt, it hurt so fucking good, and Taeyong felt tears roll down his cheeks as a his orgasm was dragged out for too long. Doyoung didn’t stop, and Taeyong didn’t ask him too, because Taeyong loved it so much he was reduced to a moaning wreck.

Just like Taeyong had uttered his name, Doyoung came with Taeyong’s name rolling off his tongue, hips slowing down to a stop. He fell down, careful not to fall directly on top of Taeyong, the both of them meeting halfway in another kiss. Dawn was already shining through the window, sunrise still an hour away, but they figured it was an acceptable time to sleep. Taeyong was too far gone to be bothered about dirty sheets, a discarded shirt used as a towel to get rid of most of the come and lube.

“I really meant what I said.” Doyoung murmured, Taeyong wrapped securely in his arms as they started to fade with the night. “I think you’re perfect, at least, perfect to me.”

“I’m scared.” Taeyong confessed, eyes boring into the skin in front of him, Doyoung’s chin resting on top of his head. “I think I’m falling a little too fast.”

Doyoung let out a breath, a reassuring sound, his heartbeat thumping against Taeyong’s cheek.

“I’ll be there to catch you, since I’ve already fallen.”

-

“You waiting for Ten?” Taeyong asked, finger tracing a vein that showed on Doyoung’s arm, leading down to a hand with pastel pink nails, the same shade as Taeyong’s hair. It was the last night of recording, and Taeyong had found Doyoung loitering around outside, smoking. Doyoung laughed, and Taeyong never got tired of it. He noticed Doyoung’s lips were chapped again, and his hand was already reaching for the lip balm in his pocket. 

“I’m waiting for you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> can jaehyun cover a kings of leon song pls and thank you
> 
> anyways did i mention i love dotae cause i do


End file.
